


A Museum For All the Things We Have Broken

by cynnamon



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Dick Grayson tries to be a good brother, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2479427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynnamon/pseuds/cynnamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick tries to cheer up Damian and Tim and give them advice on how to deal with their issues. If he can't solve his own at least he can help his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Museum For All the Things We Have Broken

Dick looked up from his cereal as he heard a a loud crashing. Ah. So he was right.  
He looked back down into his half eaten bowl of cereal with a frown. It would be soggy by the time he got back... but family first. Always.  
He found Damian on the balance beam, holding himself in the air by the force of just his left hand, a sour look on his face.  
The door, as he had suspected, was off its hinges, cracked nearly in two. He'd be proud, if it wasn't the third time this week. And a Wednesday. (There was also the matter of Alfred. At least he had the door's measurements memorized.)  
“Get out of here, Grayson. I'm concentrating.” Damian snarled. Dick ignored him, bending down to examine the young boy's handiwork.  
Damian made a noise in aggravation.  
“I wonder what Alfred does with all these door scraps,” Dick wondered allowed, “It would be a shame to let so much good wood go to waste.”  
“I'm sure he gives it to all the poor little orphan boys and girls who can't afford their fire wood." Damian said sarcastically. "Or maybe he saves them all up to make a museum of the fruits of his labor.”  
“A museum of all the things we've destroyed?” Dick chuckled. At least the boy hadn't lost his sense of humor, “That's a museum I'd like to tour. There could be a full section for broken doors...”  
When Damian didn't respond Dick walked up beside to balance beam so that his face was almost level with Damian's.  
“Get out of my face, Grayson. I need to concentrate.” He snarled again.  
“Could you come down so we could talk?” Dick asked.  
Damian just glared at him without reply and continued to count under his breath.  
“C'mon.” After a moment he raised his eyebrows, “If you're not coming down I'm coming up.”  
When Damian didn't reply again Dick began to take off his shirt.  
“No.” Damian barked, “Put your shirt back on, no, stop taking your shirt off, Grayson. I said put it back on. If you rock the beam I could fall! Don't come any closer! Grayson!” Dick showed no sign of obeying his orders. He growled but he flipped himself into a sitting position anyway.  
“Now put your shirt back on.” He spat, wiping the sweat from his brow and crossing his arms.  
Dick did as commanded then swung himself up to seat himself next to Damian.  
“So... Do you want to talk about it?”  
“There's nothing to talk about!” Damian shouted at him, shifting himself away from his older brother, as if shifting away from him could also move himself further from his emotions.  
“... You've broken three doors this week.” Dick pointed out.  
“So what?” He spat, still looking away from him.  
“It's Wednesday.”  
After a moment of silence Dick shifted uncomfortably and asked, “Is this about that letter last week... the one from your mother?”  
“No.” Damian said too fast, “I had entirely forgotten about that. Why should it matter? She made it clear how she feels about me. I'm not needed anymore. She's just a harlot now like all the others.”  
“She's still your mother.”  
“No she's not.” He spat, “She's made that clear. I'm no longer a member of house Al' Ghul, but rather an enemy. You're my family now.” after realizing how that sounded, like he actually cared about him, he hurriedly added, “I'm Robin now. And Robin's only family is Batman.”  
Dick smiled, “The Batfamily is a lot larger then just Batman and Robin, Damian. There's Red Robin, and-”  
“Get that stupid smile off your face, Grayson. I didn't mean it like that.” He growled, pushing himself off the beam and onto the floor. “And Drake is not my brother.”  
“More your brother than I am.” Dick pointed out, “It's not Drake anymore. It's Wayne.”  
Damian didn't reply to that but rather picked his abandoned hoodie up off the floor and shuffed it on over his head.  
When Damian didn't come back to the balance beam Dick pushed himself down too.  
“Look...” he started as Damian made his signature -tt- noise, “I know family is hard. But you have one outside of me, outside of us. I know it's hard to face that, but you just can't fight your connection to where you grew up. And you don't have to face that now but when you're ready to, come speak to me.”  
Before he turned to leave he bent down to kiss his little brother on the cheek, propmting him to immediately lash out and swear at him.  
Dick laughed as he dodged the attack and turned to leave, “Just remember; I'm here for you, little D.”  
As Dick made his way back down the hall and back to his cereal he stopped by Tim's bedroom door.  
He hadn't heard from him all day.  
Dick pushed opened Tim's door and peeked inside, knowing this is where he'd find him.  
Tim looked up from staring at the floor from where he sat on his bed, curled up with a pillow, when he heard his door creak, “Broke another door?” He asked.  
“Third one this week.” Dick sighed.  
“And it's a Wednesday.”  
“You're tellin' me.”  
“What do you think Alfred does with them all?” Tim asked after a brief moment of silence.  
“Damian thinks he may be giving them out as fire wood. Or saving them for a museum.”  
“Of broken doors?”  
“Of the things we've destroyed.”  
“This could make for an interesting visit. I know where I'd go first. 'The hall of hearts'" he extended his hands out over his head, as if to create a banner, "for all the hearts you and Bruce have broken over the years.”  
Dick laughed at that, crossing the room to take a seat next to him, “I'm sure you could put a few in there. Don't count yourself out of the running just yet.”  
Tim's face fell a little then but he smiled again (a little to quickly) and quipped back, “After all these years you guys have had ahead of me? Please. You were stealing hearts as a Flying Grayson.”  
“It's a hall for broken hearts, not stolen ones. We'd need a whole new wing for the ones that were stolen. But we could build one if you want. Why? You expecting to find yours in there?”  
“No fair.” Tim retaliated, “I was only a child.”  
“I'll take that as a yes, fanboy.” Dick joked, lightly punching Tim on the arm.  
“Nah.” He said, attempting to sound joking “I know where my heart is.” He regretted it instantly. He was never good with humor. It sounded awkward and revealing. He hoped that maybe Dick would leave it alone but he knew that was to much to ask for.  
“In another museum?” Dick asked quietly.  
Tim squirmed involuntarily. That was enough of a reply.  
“Well there's only one thing you can do about that.”  
Tim looked at him in horror.  
Dick grinned and leaned close to whisper in him ear, “Go steal it back.” He said giving him a light kiss on the cheek.  
“Aren't we supposed to be the heroes?” Tim asked sarcastically.  
Dick smiled at his little brother. “You'll figure it out, Robin.”  
“I'm Red Robin now.” Tim reminded him.  
“That's right.” Dick said from the doorway, “I guess It's just a little difficult for some of us closest to you to get use to.”  
With that Dick winked and shut the door behind him, questioning whether or not it was a better idea to pour himself a new bowl or corn flakes or eat the soggy ones.  
Both, probably.


End file.
